I’ve spent most of my adult life thinking that I had a black thumb.

My house plants always died and I managed to off more than a few other people’s plants, too. I was a little fearful when we moved into our current home that had all these living things in the yard. How long would it before our yard became a burned out shell of its former self?

Well, it turns out that what plants really like to do is live and grow and so long as you don’t get in their way, they’re going to keep on doing just that.

Last summer, emboldened by a few years of managing not to kill everything in the yard, C and I decided to add a couple big vegetable container boxes to the front yard. Because, while I think flowers are pretty and trees are swell, what I really look for in a plant is deliciousness.

the veggie boxes in progress, last spring

So we set up the boxes and filled them with things that grow easily and that I love to eat like kale and tomatoes. And whaddya know? They grew!

Chris made covers for the boxes to see what we could sustain through winter. The kale and collards survived all right though really didn’t do any growing for 6 months. Now that it’s sunny again, they’ve gone straight to flowering. Initially I thought, “Bummer, they’re going to seed, that’s the end of that.” But after visiting the Portland Farmer’s Market I now know that what I’ve actually got is gourmet raab. Hotcha!

the new hot veggie on the market: kale raab!

I planted several lettuces that were supposed to overwinter well, but after that deep freeze in December only one really survived. It’s the aptly named “winter wonder lettuce” and it’s looking lovely indeed. I want to try growing more of these next winter.

This year, we’re expanding even more and diversifying our crops. I’m also eying the other side of the front lawn for more space, but we’ll see how our harvest is this year. So far we’ve got: leeks, radishes, carrots, fava beans, spinach and chard. Oh, and I’ve got potfuls of epazote and oregano that flourished through the winter on indoor window sills.

I should have guessed all those many years ago that all the incentive I needed to become a gardener was the promise of a fresh and delicious dinner.